


To Be Fully Seen

by DoreyG



Category: Stanton & Barling - E.M. Powell
Genre: Caretaking, Concussions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: “Stanton,” a soft, familiar voice called to him through his dreams. “Hugo, come on. Wake up now.”
Relationships: Aelred Barling/Hugo Stanton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	To Be Fully Seen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [within_a_dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/gifts).



> Stanton has a mild concussion in this, though it's not explicitly named.

“Stanton,” a soft, familiar voice called to him through his dreams. “Hugo, come on. Wake up now.”

“Gnarrrgh,” he said, very coherently, and reluctantly levered open his eyes. It took a quite significant amount of effort, but he was immediately rewarded by Barling’s face so he supposed that was alright. “Mornin’. Or afternoon. What time is it?”

“You were right the first time. It’s morning, just after nine of the clock to be exact,” Barling informed him, sounding a lot happier with the fact than he’d usually be, and carefully slid a hand under his chin to tilt his head up. “I thought you deserved a lie in, after all that business.”

He blinked, slightly unused to Barling talking to him softly as well as touching him softly. Often his words were still spiky, his tenderness conveyed through touch alone. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Aelred Barling?”

Barling frowned down at him for a moment… But then actually gave a wry smile, shook his head and carefully examined both of his eyes before letting go. “I didn’t say that I’d let you sleep all day, I just said that you deserved a few extra hours. How are you feeling?”

He gave this question a brief consideration, catalogued literally every part of his body that was currently grumbling and came to the only possible conclusion. “Terrible.”

Barling’s eyebrows knitted together, an expression of gratifying concern crossed his face. “Terrible?”

“Maybe less terrible than yesterday, though?” He ventured, and - heeding the general message of the grumbles - carefully rolled over until he could snuggle in against Barling’s warm side. “I still have a headache, a _splitting_ headache, but everything else feels a bit better. I don’t think I’m dizzy anymore-”

“That’d be rather hard to tell, since you’re currently lying down,” Barling pointed out, and automatically raised his arm to wrap loosely around his shoulders.

“-And I don’t feel like I’m about to throw up, either,” he continued, rolling his eyes in Barling’s direction and immediately regretting the decision as his brain cheerfully took the opportunity to lurch in his skull. “I can see a bit better, too. As much as I _like_ the sight of you, seeing double is maybe a bit too much.”

“I can understand that, considering that sometimes one of me is too much,” Barling said softly, and tightened that warm arm around him. It was a protective gesture, one that sent a pleasant warmth through him and even went some way to ease the pounding in his head. “I was worried about you, you know.”

He tilted his head up, until it was resting on Barling’s chest. Studied the man’s face from this new position, appreciating the view. “Were you?”

“Of course I was,” Barling said, somewhat sternly, and returned his curious look with a thoughtful frown. “You were struck in the head, while protecting me on a frankly meaningless case. I saw you go down, and when I reached you there was blood in your hair. We both know very well that men have died from lesser wounds.”

He slung an arm around Barling’s waist, tightened his grip when he felt the man give a barely repressed shudder. “But I didn’t.”

“No. Thank the lord.” Barling took in a deep breath, ran absent fingers through his hair and continued to frown down at him with an expression of flattering intensity. “But when you did wake up, just a few seconds later, you weren’t yourself. You were dazed and confused, you kept complaining that you were about to throw up, for about twenty minutes all you would do was sit there and hold your head. It was… Terrifying, to be perfectly frank.”

“Aelred,” he said softly, and very tentatively levered himself up on his elbows. When he didn’t immediately fall right back down with a pained whimper, which was decided progress all things considered, he leaned in to cup the side of Barling’s face with one tender hand. “It sounds horrible, it really does. But I’m alright now.”

“Because I finally managed to drag you to the doctor, yes,” Barling said, somewhat waspishly. But the man’s hand was still shaky, where it clutched against the back of his nightshirt. The man’s face was still creased with worry, as it pressed up against his. “But you so easily could not have been. And I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t.”

“It’s probably best not to think about, to be honest,” he said, and nuzzled their foreheads even more firmly together. It was still, even after almost a year of this, a miracle to touch Barling in such an intimate way. “But for the record, I think you would’ve done just fine. You’re the most competent man I’ve ever met. I’m pretty sure that you can survive any situation going.”

“I’m not sure that I would’ve wanted to survive that one,” Barling whispered, a confession, and carded the fingers of his other hand through the curls of his hair. “I love you, Hugo. You know that, don’t you?”

It was the first time the man had ever said the words out loud. It wasn’t, though, the first time that he had felt them. Suddenly he recalled a hundred instances of Barling taking in a deep breath and then hesitating, biting his lip, stumbling over his own words when usually he was so eloquent. A thousand instances of Barling tenderly running fingers through his hair, curling contentedly against his chest, touching him at every single opportunity. A million instances of Barling biting back a smile at the sight of him, seeking out his company instead of paperwork, staring at him with his heart in his eyes.

“I know,” he said softly, and leaned in to press a brief peck against Barling’s mouth. “I love you too.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’ve made an entire miserable life worth it, because every single moment of suffering has led to you in my arms,” Barling continued, in the tone of a confessional, and hesitated for only a moment before pressing their foreheads fiercely back together. “I don’t ever want to see you get hurt again. Which is somewhat terrifying, considering the scrapes you tend to get yourself into.”

“The scrapes that we get each other into, I think you’ll find,” he said teasingly, and couldn’t hold himself back from leaning briefly in - respecting his still gently throbbing head - to pepper kisses over Barling’s lovely face. “I can’t promise that I won’t get hurt again, it’d be a foolish vow given everything, but I can promise something else. I will always survive whatever trouble we’re in, and I will always return to your side afterwards.”

“Can you really promise eternal survival?” Barling asked, but there was a small and irrepressible smile on his lips as he accepted the kisses. “That seems a little arrogant, all things considered.”

“I can do my best, and that’ll just have to do,” he informed the man, in his most lofty manner, and slowly and reluctantly leaned back from their embrace. “Come on, why don’t you distract me with some boring bit of legal minutiae. And then, once you’re done with that, I can distract you with a bit of riding and we can both-”

“No, Stanton.” To his surprise, it was Barling that rolled his eyes this time and reached out to keep him in place. He had never seen the man roll his eyes before, it was a surprisingly endearing sight. “You still have a concussion, remember? You’re not supposed to ride for at least a week.”

“At least a week?” He repeated, horrified. “But, Aelred-”

“You cannot get around medical instructions by using my first name, Stanton,” Barling said sternly, using his last name presumably to prove a point. “You cannot ride, or caper about like you usually do. The cure is rest, and a healthy amount of relaxation along with it.”

“But-” He sighed at the stubborn expression on Barling’s face, flopped back to the pillows with a reluctant grumble. “Fine. You’ll at least relax with me, though, right?”

“I really shouldn’t,” Barling said, but there was a slightly longing look in his eyes that always seemed to appear when he wanted to be pushed. “I still have a quite significant amount of paperwork to do, even more if my usual assistant is laid up in bed. And I’m not the injured one, I really shouldn’t be lazing around in any-”

“ _Aelred_ ,” he whined, in his very brattiest tone.

“...Although I suppose a certain amount of paperwork can be done from bed, if the situation calls for it,” Barling said, on a low sigh, and gave him a smile that wanted to be reluctant but that instead emerged beaming. “You are a menace, Hugo. A decided corrupting influence on the peaceful order of my life.”

“At least your first name is good for something.” He smirked, and took a decided pleasure in the barely muffled snort it provoked from Barling’s direction. “Can I rest my head in your lap, while you work?”

“If it’d help,” Barling said, again trying to appear reluctant, but seemingly couldn’t resist carding fond fingers through his hair as he took the man at his word and slid happily down. “As long as you’re only resting it there, mind. _All_ kinds of physical exertion are banned for a week, Stanton, and not just the ones involving riding.”

“What about the ones involving being ridden?” He asked blissfully, happily ensconced in Barling’s warm lap, and accepted the automatic swat to his shoulder as his due.


End file.
